>LEASE HANDLE
WITH CARE

University of
Connecticut Libraries

GAYLORD RG

Our American Heritage!

— An Interpretation

EARLE W. NEWTON

11 Were American Newcomen to do naught else> our
work is well done if we succeed in sharing with
America a strengthened inspiration to continue
the struggle towards a nobler Civilization —
through wider knowledge and understanding of the
hopes y ambitions y and deeds of leaders in the fast
who have upheld Civilizations material progress.
As we look backward y let us look forward"

CHARLES PENROSE

Senior Vice-President for North America
The Newcomen Society of England

IS

This statement, crystallizing a broad purpose of the society, was first read
at the Newcomen Meeting at New York World's Fair on August}, 1939,
when American Newcomen were guests of The British Government

f fActorum Memores simul affectamus Agenda ' '

OUR AMERICAN HERITAGE!

An Interpretation

An Address at Old Stur bridge Village
in Massachusetts

American Newcomen, through the years, has honored
a number of museums and like institutions devoted to
the preservation of History , both in the United States of
America and in Canada. In 19s1 this international
Society honored Colonial Williamsburg in Virginia. In
1954 we we honoring Old Stur bridge Village in Mas-
sachusetts. Each has as its purpose to recreate the life
and times, the manners and customs, the heritage and
the treasures of Colonial America!

"Old Sturbridge Village" constitutes an early Ameri-
can community, reconstructed along banks of the Quine-
baug River in Western Massachusetts y U.S.A., as it
would have been about the Year 1700. It is a living
museum of the New England heritage and a craft center
where the spirit of American craftsmanship is re-
vived and practised by artisans of today.

y %

Our American Heritage!

— An Interpretation

EARLE W . NE W TON

MEMBER OF THE NEWCOMEN SOCIETY

EDITOR

"AMERICAN HERITAGE"

THE AMERICAN ASSN. FOR STATE AND LOCAL HISTORY

STURBRIDGE AND NEW YORK

THE NEWCOMEN SOCIETY IN NORTH AMERICA
NEW YORK SAN FRANCISCO MONTREAL

i 954

Copyright, 1954

The Newcomen Publications in
North America

|75

-8?

Permission to abstract is granted
provided proper credit is allowed

%

The Newcomen Society, as a body,
is not responsible for opinions
expressed in the following pages

First Printing: June 1954

This Newcomen Address, dealing with Ameri-
can Heritage and Tradition as preserved by
historical records and collections, was delivered
at the "1954 New England Picnic" of The
Newcomen Society in North America, held at
Old Sturbridge Village, at Sturbridgey Mas-
sachusetts, U.S.A., when Mr. Newton was the
guest of honor, on
June 24, 1954

SET UP, PRINTED AND BOUND IN THE UNITED STATES
OF AMERICA FOR THE NEWCOMEN PUBLICATIONS IN
NORTH AMERICA BY PRINCETON UNIVERSITY PRESS

I

JUNE 24, 1954, BY DR. CLAUDE MOORE FUESS, HEADMAS-

(X MITTEE, IN THE NEWCOMEN SOCIETY IN NORTH AMERICA.

<x

My fellow members of Newcomen:

Old Sturbridge is a highly successful attempt to reproduce
some aspects of our New England heritage and thus to
recapture the spirit of a picturesque past. The idea was
conceived in the logo's by a group of imaginative and generous
people, headed by Albert B. Wells and his family, and the project
was opened to the public in 1946. This is a productive enterprise,
where visitors may observe what ingenuity, properly directed, can
achieve when it has had adequate financial support. Those who saw
last Summer the presentation of The Devil and Daniel Webster
know what is being accomplished here in music and the drama, —
and this is only the beginning!

Earle Newton, our speaker today and the former Director of
Old Sturbridge Village, is a Central New Yorker transplanted to
a Yankee environment. No finer type exists in this Country. I am
one of them myself! Modesty forbids my mentioning the three
fine institutions at which he was educated: Andover, Amherst,
and Columbia. Although he is only thirty-seven, he has made a
name for himself as antiquarian, author, editor, and historian. He
has been Director of the Vermont Historical Society, has published

[ 5 1

several books, and will write many more. He is Editor of "Ameri-
can Heritage," published by The American Association for State
and Local History, and Editor of "American States Series" (50
volumes).

Newton had loads of fun while here, like a boy building with
blocks and seeing things grow. Here, through his vision, there
sprang up a unique and fascinating community. I was never quite
sure what to expect next!

This is the type of venture which The Newcomen Society, with
its traditions, does well to honor, for it is as truly American as a
prosperous business or college. Newton himself has energy and
resourcefulness, two characteristic American virtues. We should
be proud of Old Sturbridge, — and of him!

As one long interested in and identified with Old Sturbridge
Village, I am happy to introduce: Earle Williams Newton.

I 6 ]

My fellow members of Newcomen:

These few words are on the subject of History, but I shall
preface what is to be said by dealing first with a small
matter of — shall we say — economics, namely: production
and distribution. For in the field of History, as in manufacturing,
we have these problems too.

Let's step first, Mr. Chairman, into the production department.
It's a pretty well organized, smoothly running division, with an
impressive record. Perhaps too much so, for it faces a situation of
"over-production." In scores of colleges and universities all over
the Country men hired to teach are also researching and writing
on American History, for it has become standard practice for educa-
tional institutions to allow, even expect, their faculty to devote a
portion of their time to research. Indeed, it is generally conceded
that every teacher needs to refresh himself periodically "at the

[ 7 1

sources" if he is not to go stale. The results of this work, plus the
weighty dissertations of graduate students, pour out annually in
a flood of manuscript and printed matter, in books and in learned
journals. It is the basic material of our history — the first step in
rendering the raw materials — documentary sources — into finished
consumer goods. It is a quality product, commonly done with
care and with little attention to union pay scales; it represents
midnight oil, and often travel to distant parts; it involves a labo-
rious piecing-together of puzzling and recalcitrant materials into
an integrated whole, and often a period of near hopeless waiting
for the missing link that eventually solves the puzzle.

Yet this "quality product" goes mostly into inventory. No one
would admit that there really was a state of overproduction ; surely
it all is needed; the problem, therefore, is rather one of under-
consumption. Something must be wrong with the channels of
distribution. There is!

The average volume of history rarely reaches a readership of
5,000 (often a publisher's break-even point); few historical jour-
nals have that large a circulation, and honest editors admit that
actual readership is far below circulation in most cases. Most go
automatically and without charge to the membership of historical
societies; and, while often admired, are — with a half-dozen excep-
tions— seldom read. Printing in scholarly quarterlies all too often
represents printing for the library stacks, and thus for the few,
isolated future researchers in a given field, whose work will be
eased by the filtering process already done by their predecessors
(if they trust it).

Historians occasionally gather in national and regional meetings
to display their wares to one another, and the results, in a scholarly
sense, are usually impressive. But they find it necessary again to
register their dismay and puzzlement that the American general
public is not sufficiently impressed to purchase their output, in any

I 8 ]

reasonable volume. They have, they believe, devised a better
mouse-trap, but the public is not beating a path to their door.
Hence the economic problem: a situation of overproduction in
relation to distribution, though certainly not in respect to consumer
need.

*8? °$

The need is there. Surely we cannot assess current problems
adequately in an historical vacuum. The individual makes constant
reference to what he calls "experience" in making personal judg-
ments looking toward the future. History is nothing more than
the consolidated social experience of the community, State or Na-
tion j and an intelligent acquaintanceship with this social experience
we label "History" is essential to balanced judgment and respon-
sible, democratic citizenship.

Furthermore there is a widespread recognition of this need —
what almost seems sometimes a thirst for a deeper understanding
of the American Heritage. In the face of a rising tide of doctrines
subversive of what most people believe to be their basic freedom,
Americans have been turning more and more to an examination
of their origins. The average citizen is coming to realize that
"roots" mean a great deal to him.

The millions who flocked to see historic American documents
enshrined in "The Freedom Train" are indicative of the very real
and active interest Americans have in their past. The resurgence
and revivification of the Nation's historical societies and their
tremendous increase in membership (sometimes 1,000 percent
or more) ; the growth of the brand new outdoor museums of
history like Colonial Williamsburg, Old Sturbridge Village, The
Farmer's Museum, Mystic Seaport, and the tremendous visitation
they experience (attendance here at Old Sturbridge Village, for
example, has gone up 30 to 40 percent each year over the preced-
ing, for five successive years), are all part of the same pattern.
Americans are seeking out the roots of their national heritage.

[ 9 ]

The key to all this interest has been effective interpretation.
Someone has acted as a go-between between the scholar and the
public j and has told a story in terms the average man could under-
stand. If I may shift from manufacturing to agriculture for the
moment, we might draw a parallel between the farmer's eggs and
the consumer's omelette: a good cook stood between one and
the other as an essential intermediary. We need more good cooks
who can serve up a tasty dish from authentic ingredients.

Popularization? Yes — I suppose so, though the very word
troubles many a good scholar. Let's see what we mean by the word,
by examining the differences between the scholar and the Inter-
preter:

There is a difference between the research scholar and the inter-
preter. The scholar is concerned with the compiling and righting
of the historical record ; the teacher with the interpretation and
writing of the historical record. The first records results; the
second interprets them.

Have these never been combined? Often — but largely in the col-
lege classroom. Here the teacher-researchist holds forth, enriching
his lectures with the practical experience gained from detailed
research. But there are factors which limit his effectiveness. His
research is almost by necessity narrowly limited, and can color
only a small portion of the broad canvas he must paint for the
average student. Furthermore, his audience is a "captive audience,"
confined not only by the physical bounds of the classroom, but also
by certain definite learning compulsions. These students have made
a definite investment in collegiate education, which can be realized
only by surmounting the hurdle of examinations and the comple-
tion of a definite course of study. Having applied himself ade-
quately to it, the undergraduate may expect to acquire his degree.
His teacher thus has a great advantage in the compulsions under

[ 10 ]

which his audience listens. However dull or confusing he may
become, his students must stay with him to the bitter end — and
pass. He has few of the incentives to be clear and interesting,
though there are many great teachers — interpreters — in our
universities.

In any event, neither our professors nor our public school
teachers have created among their graduates an enthusiastic reader-
ship for historical writings. Far more have experienced history
in the public schools than in the colleges, and their experience
was not a happy one. The routine of names and dates did not
impress them as a significant educational experience, and is often
recalled with distaste. How many times has "history" led the list
when votes were taken for the "dullest" subjects?

*8? *8?

But why? — when all the drama, romance, and excitement that
ever existed are — obviously — in history] The fault lies with its
interpreters. There is an obligation on our teachers to make their
courses exciting as well as meaningful — especially those in the
public schools, which reach far more people than our institutions
of higher education.

But any improvement here — and there has been a great deal of
it in the last decade — applies to a future generation. What of
those who have already received their formal education — the very
people who, in this democracy, vote, and otherwise influence
public opinion? Here we face a problem in adult education: who
will tackle it? The institutions of formal education? Probably not,
for only a small proportion of the adult public will again submit
itself to classroom captivity.

Oddly enough, it is the historical societies and museums which
now are in the forefront of adult education in history — those very
institutions we had assumed to be moribund, or at best, inextricably

[ ii l

bogged down in purposeless genealogy or trivial local and anti-
quarian pursuits. They have, in just the last decade, acquired a
new, young, determined, and ingenious leadership of men, largely
trained for college teaching, who caught the gospel and set out
to get a wider audience for The American Story. None of them
ignored the production end. One of their real achievements has
been to reorganize, expand, and re-direct the research and collec-
tion programs of their institutions, which are the principal reposi-
tories of the source material of American History. They developed
new and more competent systems of care and cataloging of manu-
script material, and started a flow of indexes and guides to help
the university scholar in his searches.

But they also sat down to analyze the breakdown in distribution.
And they found these things wrong:

Fir sty there was the subject matter. Was the standard subject
matter of American History enough? Speaking from the fountain-
head of source material, the great reservoirs of regional and local
materials, they called for a re-examination and a new approach.
American History has commonly been viewed exclusively from a
national viewpoint, and a vast number of facile generalizations
have been made to provide a sufficiently simple picture of Ameri-
can evolution. But examining these at the "grass roots" — at the
regional and local level — we find so many exceptions to the rule
that the "rule" hardly seems valid any longer.

Consequently those who have been close to the "grass-roots"
of history have started re-writing it from the ground up. Using as
laboratories their own areas, where economic, social, and political
processes could be examined in detail, they have found that many
of the broad generalizations just don't stand up. From this test-
ing, this re-examination, will come a new American History — as
new, perhaps, as emerged from that awakening of American his-
torians to the importance of economic and social history a score of
years ago.

But no matter how the scholars re-write history, its dissemination
is not necessarily forwarded thereby. It can still be dull, ponderous

[ 12 1

— and unread. Fortunately there is a growing revolt among his-
torians themselves — enthusiastically supported by their publishers
I might add — against unnecessary dullness. They violently object
to the idea that anything "scientific" cannot be literature. They
have campaigned to get historians to write better — and surely
there is a vast room for improvement. But few historians are or
ever will be trained as writers 3 those that have a natural talent
are therefore the group from which we must draw our principal
interpreters — our chiefs of distribution.

Furthermore^ it is not wise to distract our researchers too much
from their patient, scholarly digging. This operation is as essential
as any mining operation: sometimes it produces gold, sometimes
dross, sometimes semi-precious materials — but it must go on. And
the analysis which the scholar undertakes — with its laborious
balancing of facts, its careful weighing of partial evidence, its bulk
of supporting footnotes — is after all the sound, indispensable basis
of all historical research.

Even if we discover and mobilize those few who can, by an in-
spired pen, translate authentic material into well-written books,
we have not yet reached a very broad audience. The best-sellers
in history still do not sell well. But those of us who have felt that
historical societies are institutions of adult education, as well as
historical warehouses, found new methods of using the printed
word. In addition to an expanding series of books on State and local
history, these societies rejuvenated their historical quarterlies and
found for them new readership; the Wisconsin and Minnesota
societies, for example, have led in this. Some have published special
"junior" journals for the kids, to catch interest in its earliest stages;
the New York State Historical Association's Yorker has been out-
standing in this group. Some have retained their quarterlies as
scholarly journals, and begun separate publications of a popular
character to reach the populace they could never hope to interest
in membership. The Virginia State Library History Division's

[ 13 ]

Virginia Cavalcade is the newest and most colorful of these ;
Vermont Life, begun in 1946 by joint cooperation of the Vermont
Historical Society and The Vermont Development Commission,
reached out to nearly a quarter of a million readers, outside of
Vermont as well as inside, with its fourth issue. I can remember
when I first talked the Governor of Vermont into putting up
enough money to print the first issue, and how we put out 12,000
copies with the expectation we'd have to give away 10,000 of them.
We were as surprised as anyone when all 12,000 went over the
newsstands in three days, and when the same thing happened to
the next two issues of, respectively, 20,000 and 25,000 copies.
There was interest in colorfully presented history that comes up
to date; we proved it in one of the smallest and thriftiest States
in the Union. And we found the same audience, or larger, awaiting
a weekly radio program of dramatized history, carried over several
stations, and tied into a weekly newspaper column of background
material. We found it for a weekly cartoon panel that the news-
papers were willing to purchase, for a color-illustrated volume of
State history as well as a movie based on it by the great documen-
tary producers, Robert and David Flaherty. This film sent its
message not only throughout the State, but throughout the world;
it was screened on Broadway, and translated by the U.S. State De-
partment into thirty-six languages for circulation in other lands.

An even broader program is carried out by the societies of larger
States, like Wisconsin, which with an annual budget of over a
quarter of a million, projects a major research program based on
one of the Nation's largest collections of historical books and man-
uscripts, runs the State archives, publishes both senior and junior
magazines, manages historic sites throughout the State, and even
sends forth a "historymobile" to carry its museum program over
the roads to every part of Wisconsin. The Vermont Society, with
one-tenth the budget, is at the opposite pole 5 but large or small,
historical societies have found ways of making pennies do a dollar's
work toward a program of effective interpretation of the American
Heritage.

I 14 1

These societies, under new leadership, have given the printed
word new meaning and new dissemination, not only in their own
regions, but nationally. Banded together in the American Associa-
tion for State and Local History — a formidable title which no
longer represents the breadth of their program — they have begun
sponsorship of programs of a national import. Some of these are
professional in character, others "popular." Among the latter the
most distinctive is its magazine: American Heritage.

American Heritage we began in 1949, building on the editorial
formula which had then proven itself in Vermont Life. It started
much the same way — on a shoestring — when the Association risked
its entire bank account of $2,000 to print its first issue, in the faith
that a steady flow of subscription revenue would print the rest.
That issue, and all subsequent, with their extensive illustration
and use of color, have cost more to produce and distribute, at low-
beginning subscription levels, than the sale price brought back.
Donations from foundations and interested individuals have, over
the past five years, helped undertake promotion necessary to steady
growth of the subscription list — for, unlike the State magazines,
it is not available at newsstands. Now near the 20,000 level, it en-
ters a new stage of growth ; venture capital, confident in its promise,
has entered the picture to expand it and, if calculations are right,
push it past the 50,000 mark over the next two years. Its future,
we hope, will be to do for the field of American History what the
National Geographic did for the field of geography: to take a
subject people thought dull and uninteresting and interpret its
inherent drama and significance to a broad audience.

The printed word is still Man's most effective means of com-
munication with other men, especially in the realm of ideas. But
it is not the only means. Figure for a moment how you get the bulk
of your information. It's through visual images — some, it is true,
of words on a printed page, but relatively a small proportion. Of
the endless flow of images that pass through eyes to brain during
your waking hours, only a few are words 3 most are impressions

[ 15 1

of actual objects or their representations in pictorial or graphic
form. Historical societies — and adult education generally — are
making broad use of pictorial and graphic material. What I have
already described of their programs — which include motion pic-
tures, film strips for schools, graphic and pictorial as well as textual
material for newspapers, programs for radio and television — in-
dicates the active fashion in which they have undertaken to use
the standard media of public communication to reach that great
amorphous mass called The American Public — which is certainly
far from a "captive" audience, and which quickly rejects "educa-
tional" material that is not also both colorful and significant.

These historical agencies have uncovered an additional dis-
covery— that they can make as effective use of actual objects as
they can of textual descriptions and pictorial representations. The
historical museum, usually thought of as a dusty, musty collection
of curios, has begun to come into its own, and, under the leadership
of the U.S. National Park Service, lively and intriguing exhibits
have been made using new combinations of words, pictures, and
actual objects. The latter, instead of being isolated relics, become
three-dimensional interpretive devices, to be carefully related to
the other techniques of telling a story or imparting information.

Sometimes these objects get awfully big — like houses. Houses
are pretty hard to display under glass, as are steam engines, boats,
carriages, and similar remnants of another age. The result has
been, of course the preservation of historic houses, sites and mon-
uments, which became important shrines where Americans go to
renew their faith in America. Hundreds of thousands annually
visit Mt. Vernon, Monticello, or Independence Hall, or the na-
tional historic sites at Morristown, Yorktown, and Jamestown.

The effectiveness of these actual monuments of the past in in-
terpreting it gave the historians a new urge — to recreate the past

f 16 ]

in three dimensions, as we have previously done in the two dimen-
sions of the picture or the single dimension of the written or spoken
word.

°$ °$

Because no community has stood still, any such project neces-
sarily involved restoring an entire area, or moving in representa-
tive, original structures from elsewhere to a new site. Colonial
Williamsburg, a restoration now a quarter-century old and still
growing, was the first and is still the greatest of these projects.
But the munificence of John D. Rockefeller Jr. has not been re-
peated elsewhere, and is unlikely to be again.

Old Sturbridge Village is the largest and most complete of the
"synthetic" villages — that is, a village the parts of which are (with
a few special exceptions) authentic structures, but which have been
assembled on a new site in the form of a representative, or "sample"
community. Because American Newcomen is here today, where
you can see at first hand what I am talking about, because it offers
a less costly pattern than the full restoration with, in many respects,
equal effectiveness, and because I know it best, I'd like to describe
the Village as a representative example of three-dimensional in-
terpretation, a significant segment of The American Past.

Let's first take a look at the Village to see how it began, because
to do so throws light on its present status. Its co-founder, Albert
B. Wells, then Chairman of the Board, American Optical Com-
pany, was a great golfer, but not much interested in old or anti-
quarian things. One day, rained out of a game at Manchester,
Vermont, he allowed himself to be dragged along on an "anti-
quing" expedition by fellow executives of the company. Much to
his surprise, he found these examples of old-time craftsmanship fas-
cinating, and came home with an armload. Perhaps it was because
he was a precision manufacturer and could appreciate the work of
the dedicated artisan — at any rate he began collecting everything
he could find — wholesale — until he collected himself quite liter-

I 17 1

ally out of house and home, and had to move out. Eventually,
facing the need of a museum, he asked the opinion of his son,
George B. Wells, about a plan for a structure to be erected across
the street. "Why don't you," his son suggested, "return these
things to their natural environment — build a village instead?"
The idea so took "A. B." that he enlisted the aid of his brother,
J. Cheney Wells (who had been collecting too, but almost exclu-
sively clocks). They began construction in 1936.

Progress slowed during the war years, but, by 1 946, there were
enough buildings to open the growing Village to the public. Mr.
A. B. Wells having fallen seriously ill, his daughter-in-law, Mrs.
George B. Wells, took the helm for three years, and saw to the
erection of the two principal buildings — the Meetinghouse and the
Tavern — among others. She also began a program of modern
crafts, in order to project the inspiration of 18th Century crafts-
manship into the present. By 1 949, public interest had risen to the
point where it was felt by the family that, within a reasonable time,
public support should take over. After consulting outside experts,
a committee of the trustees expressed great confidence in its future
and drew up a plan calling for the construction of eating, lodging,
and amphitheatre facilities, as well as completion of the museum
village and development of its allied craft program.

It was then, in 1950, that I came to the Village as its new Direc-
tor, and began the program of expansion which became urgently
necessary as attendance tripled over the next four years. The
famous old "Publick House" in nearby Sturbridge was supple-
mented by three new inns: The Tavern, The Lodge, and the
Lincoln House, either in or at the entrance to the Village. The
great new amphitheatre was completed in 1953. Service facilities
were expanded, and two covered bridges, one at the entrance and
one at the exit, marked the completion of a new traffic plan, devised
to route the visitor through a logical development of village
growth.

[ is ]

It is this latter plan that is the key to the interpretive pattern
of this "teaching museum." Unlike a restoration, which is rebuilt
exactly to its original pattern — so far as it can be determined —
this re-created Village grew gradually, and acquired its interpretive
pattern only after it was nearly complete. Because each building
was itself to be an authentic, original structure, each had to be
integrated to the rest upon its acquisition, within a generalized
program.

As it stands now Old Sturbridge Village falls into four principal
areas, each of which represents a stage in village growth :

The visitor first approaches the farm, an almost self-contained
economic unit, which was the beginning of the late Eighteenth —
early Nineteenth Century frontier town. Unlike the early days,
when proprietors laid out a town around a Green and then mi-
grated in a group to settle it, proprietors were now predominantly
speculators, who sought enterprising farmers to settle in their
frontier community. Because there usually were few farms in the
beginning, they had to be largely self-supporting, not only agricul-
turally, but mechanically. It was from these farmer-mechanics
that the well-known Yankee inventiveness stemmed. Each was
usually an artisan of sorts as well, and usually had a shop in addi-
tion to his agricultural buildings. Our farmer, Pliny Freeman, was
a maker of ox yokes.

Settlers demanded and speculator-proprietors encouraged the
building of essential mills. Premiums in land were granted to
anyone who would build, and the grist mill and saw mill came
early, to grind the farmer's grain and saw his timber. A little "mill
village" often grew up around the new mill-pond, the town's main
source of power, and the blacksmith — important for iron work
even more than for shoeing — often located there amongst these
first industries.

As population grew, it began to develop a need for public enter-
prises: a tavern for its social life 3 a meeting-house for its religious

[ i9 1

and political life 3 a school for its educational life ; a store for its
commercial life. These commonly were built around the "common"
or "green" laid out by the proprietors — though there was often
a bitter fight amongst various segments of the town to get each new
building located in its own area. As these new aspects of community
life multiplied, there came to the community the professional
people: minister, doctor, lawyer, store-keeper, schoolmaster, and
perhaps even a truly wealthy man — all of whom tended to build
their somewhat more elaborate homes around the Village Green.
And this is the picture we see around the Green at Old Sturbridge
Village, the third major area and stage of community develop-
ment— for now we have an actual community replacing a New
England "town" of scattered farms.

Then, as the Village grew, its economic life became more pros-
perous and more specialized. Supporting not only a store, with its
beginnings of a cash economy, it began to offer opportunity for
industry — not factories, of course, but individual craftsmen. Early
to the community, if it was fortunate, was the editor-printer, and
he was often — like our Isaiah Thomas — the most influential per-
sonage for miles around. Thomas was known nationally. There
were also the cabinet-maker, boot-maker, potter, gun-smith, silver-
smith, clock-maker, and a multitude of other "specialists" (who
usually farmed as well). These can be found in their shops in the
craft area to the north of the Old Sturbridge "Green." Nearby
are the modern shops of the independent craftsmen associated with
but not part of the Village, who create with modern tools, in con-
temporary design, fine handcrafted products for their own times —
exactly as did their 18th Century predecessors.

•8? *8?

The Sturbridge visitor then exits by the old Dummerston
Covered Bridge — one of the great triumphs of Yankee engineer-
ing— having seen not only the functional aspects of life as it was
lived a century to a century and a half ago in rural New England,
but also having gained an insight into the growth processes of these

1 20 ]

towns. It has had a reality for him that no printed description, no
pictorial representation could ever have: the sight, sounds, smell,
and even the sense of a "living" re-creation. From the doorways
of the homes the housewife welcome him in, and may demonstrate
for him weaving, candle-dipping, or cooking; the tavern-keeper
serves him food; the store-keeper retails old penny candies ; the
blacksmith shoes a horse ; the miller grinds grain; and the other
craftsmen demonstrate their trades as they were a hundred or more
years ago. One has the sense of stepping back in time, and thereby
gains an understanding impossible in any other way. Amidst the
3-D movie dither, here is a true three-dimensional "living" re-
creation of something long dead and gone — a chapter of history
brought back to life.

It is a technique now increasingly used by historical organiza-
tions who have discovered that their story can be told far more
effectively with the elbow room and natural environment of the
great outdoors. And a pattern of regional and chronological in-
terpretation is beginning to emerge. The earnest traveler-his-
torian may see the very earliest community of the 1 620's re-created
at "Pioneer Salem," Massachusetts, as well as a later frontier
village at Deerfield, Massachusetts. He can set against the rural
simplicity of Yankee Old Sturbridge Village the aristocratic town-
life of Virginia's colonial capital, Williamsburg. Also in contrast
to this rural life is the seafaring story as told at the Marine Mu-
seum's Mystic Seaport, Connecticut. And the life of the migrants
westward to New York State can be seen in the mid- 19th Century
"Four Corners" of the Farmer's Museum of Cooperstown. Out in
the Midwest, in the Henry Ford Museum and Greenfield Village
at Dearborn, Michigan, where American industrial life came into
full flower, can be seen the picture of late 19th Century and early
20th Century industrial development.

There are many other growing outdoor museums, including
partial restorations of ghost towns of the Old West, as well as

[ 21 i

groupings of historic buildings for museum exhibit purposes, as
at Shelburne, Vermont, and Smith's Cove, New York. A durable
traveler can see a lot of American History in 3-D without ever
entering a theatre.

Well, herein is our picture of what historians as interpreters are
doing today, not only in print, but in wood, bricks, and stone. A
new appreciation of the American Heritage on the part of an in-
creasing number of Americans has come from it. I trust I have
shown why "popularization" of history, based on authentic ma-
terials, is necessary and possible, and how it can be, and is being
done! But there is much more to do, and I sincerely hope that
such historical endeavors will have the support of the business
as well as the academic community. There is much which you
industrialists, bankers, business and professional men, as trustees
of museums and historical societies, or just as interested parties,
can do to help us educators in our distribution problems. At the
moment it looks as though production is well in hand!

The End

%

"Actorum Memores simul
afectamus Agenda!"

1 22 i

This Newcomen Address, dealing with American His-
tory and its interpretation, was delivered at the "1954
New England Picnic" of The Newcomen Society in
North America j held in "Old Stur bridge Village" at
Sturbridge, Massachusetts y U.S.A., on June 24, 1954.
Mr. Newton, the guest of honor, was introduced by Dr.
Claude M. Fuess, Headmaster Emeritus of Phillips
Academy, Andover, Massachusetts ; V ice-Chairman of
the New England Committee, in American Newcomen.
The picnic was presided over by Dr. Karl T. Compton,
Chairman of the Massachusetts Institute of Technology,
Cambridge; Chairman of the New England Com-
mittee, in this international society.

I 23 ]

Welcome by Old Sturbridge Village

"Old Sturbridge Village is indeed honored today by the
visit of American Newcomen. On behalf of the Board of
Trustees and of our staff I wish to extend our warmest
welcome to all of you.

"We hope you will find this "New England Picnic" and
meeting an interesting and worthwhile occasion, and
your trip back into the early days of our New England
life a pleasing excursion. We believe an understanding
of our heritage from the past has value for the present
and the future, that a Society aware of its origins and its
traditions is better able to meet the tests of today and
tomorrow.

"As you explore this recreated segment of our American
Pasty you will share the feelings of admiration and re-
spect that nearly half a million other visitors have
discovered within themselves for the individual and
community achievements of our New England forebears.

"Again, let me say how privileged we feel today to wel-
come the members of The Newcomen Society in North
America."

— Frank O. Spinney
Directory Old Sturbridge Village
Associate Treasurer , New England Committee
The Newcomen Society in North America

% %
1 24 1

New England Picnics
11

Old Sturbridge Village calls our attention to the follow-
ing, taken from A Historical Sketch of Sturbridge and
Southbridge, written by George Davis, in 1856:

"It was formerly a custom of the inhabitants, on certain
days in the Autumn, to gather about these ponds to
enjoy a season of festivity and amusement. Pork, fish,
green corn, crackers, and cider composed the bill of fare.
Although not much particularity was regarded in pre-
paring them for the palate, nothing could relish better.
These festivities were seasoned with toasts, jokes, and
an abundance of other sorts of pleasantry. After the en-
joyments of the table were closed, some exhibited their
adroitness in swimming, some in pitching quoits, and all
as their fancy dictated. All quit, at a seasonable hour,
much gratified. This gathering was called a Squantum 5
a name, no doubt, of Indian origin, and in sound, very
much in keeping with the character of the occasion."

[ 25 ]

^„ m^«

-->«

More About Picnics!

In the Diary of The Rev. William Bentley are /^ /o/-
lowing entries, describing picnics in Salem Bay or Salem
Harbor:

"15 June iygi: Picnic at the Eastern Point. Went by
boat. Sixty in party. Ate fish. . . . and after dinner till
Tea, parties were engaged in Walking, dancing, singing
& Quoiting & Swinging & every amusement we could
imagine. The Poets story of Tirandillo was realized.
There was but one instrument of Music with us, which
was a fiddle brought by its owner to pick up a few cop-
pers."

"29 June iygg: We had a good dish of Coffee and fried
fish and reached Salem at nine o'clock."

°$ !£

I 26 ]

"These few words are on the subject of History, but I
shall preface what is to be said by dealing first with a
small matter of — shall we say — economics, namely:
production and distribution. For in the field of History,
as in manufacturing, we have these problems too."

— Earle W. Newton

% °$

I 27 1

American Newcomen, interested always in economic
and community history y is huffy to have had offortunity
to fuy tribute to the imaginative genius which led to the
creation of "Old Stur bridge Village" in Massachusetts.
Here, umid woodlundsy ulong streums, und beside fonds,
one sees, us "living history," Eighteenth Century
New Englund Toduy!

I 28 ]

THE NEWCOMEN SOCIETY

in North America

More than 30 years agoy the late L. F. Loree (1858-1940) of New
York, then dean of American railroad -presidents, established a group
now known as "American Newcomenyy and interested in Material His-
tory, as distinguished from political history. Its objectives center in the beginnings,
growth, developmeiit, contributions, and influence of Industry, Transportation,
Communication, the Utilities, Mining, Agriculture, Banking, Finance, Economics,
Insurance, Education, Invention, and the Law — these and coir elated historical
fields. In short, the background of those factors which have contributed or are
contributing to the progress of Mankind.

The N ewcomen Society in North America is a voluntary association, with
headquarters in Uwchlan Township, Chester County, within the fox-hunting
countryside of Eastern Pennsylvania and 32 miles West of the City of Philadelphia.
Here also is located The Thomas N ewcomen Library, a reference collection open
for research and dealing with the subjects to which the Society devotes at-
tention.

Meetings are held throughout the United States of America and across Canada
at which N ewcomen Addresses are presented by leaders in their respective fields.
These manuscripts represent a broadest coverage of phases of Material History
involved, both American and Canadian.

The approach in most cases has been a life-story of corporate organizations,
interpreted through the ambitions, the successes and failures, and the ultimate
achievements of those pioneers whose efforts laid the foundations of the par-
ticular enterprise.

The Societyys name perpetuates the life and work of Thomas Newcomen
( 1 663-1729 ), the British pioneer, whose valuable contributions in improvements
to the newly invented Steam Engine brought him lasting fame in the field of
the Mechanic Arts. The N ewcomen Engines, whose period of use was from 1712
to 1775, paved a way for the Industrial Revolution. N ewcomen1 s inventive
genius preceded by more than 50 years the brilliant work in Steam by the world-
famous James Watt.

Members of American Newcomen, when in Eurofe, are invited
by the Dartmouth Newcomen Association to visit the home of
Thomas Newcomen at Dartmouth in South Devonshire, Eng-
land, where the festival of "Newcomen Day" is celebrated
each year on the anniversary, August i6th, of his death.

"The roads you travel so briskly
lead out of dim antiquity,
and you study the 'past chiefly because
of its bearing on the living present
and its promise for the future"

-LIEUTENANT GENERAL JAMES G. HARBORD,
K.C.M.G., D.S.M., LL.D., U.S. ARMY (RET.)

(I866-I947)

Late ^American (^Member of Council at London
The d^ewcomen Society of England

University of
Connecticut

Libraries